Whenever, Whatever, Wherever
by Danigirl32
Summary: OneShot, Jason Morgan Receives a phone call. Liason fic.


A/N: Hey. This is my second Liason fic. First I want to thank everyone for reading _**And In The End**_. The reviews were great and appreciated. This is an AUone-shot. Hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

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**_Whenever, Whatever, Wherever_**

The cell phone in his pocket vibrated.

He looked around at the men sitting around the long conference room table, then down at his watch, knowing that he had just started this ten o'clock meeting just fifteen minutes ago.

His heart skipped a shaky beat as he tried to draw in a discreet breath, and release it without anyone noticing. Avoided eye contact, knowing what someone would see, raw almost desperate excitement swimming in their sky blue depths. Suddenly the tie around his neck seemed to tight. The jacket he wore too confining. The pants very uncomfortable. He resisted the urge to run fingers through his short-cropped hair, knowing they would reveal the slight tremor.

It vibrated again.

He felt like Pavlov's dog.

"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," he managed, cutting his presentation short. Ignoring the looks of surprise. Confusion. "Have copies of those progress reports sent to my office by the close of the business day." He didn't even bother to gather the paperwork sitting in front of him. He didn't bother to wait for a response for the board of directors of his company.

He just walked out of the room.

Long determined strides carried him down the hall back to the solitude of his office where he could snatch the phone out of his pocket and glance down at the small screen. Grip it tightly. He practically slammed the door in his executive assistants face. She had rushed to meet him, waving some notes from calls he needed to return and all he could think to say was not now.

Not now.

Not now.

He would have to apologize to her later, probably hurt the poor woman's feelings. Needed to be alone. To get a hold of himself. He leaned his head back on against the door, closed his eyes, tried to calm himself because if he didn't he was going to lose control. Right here in his office. Damn, when had he gotten so bad. His heart was racing in his chest, pounding, as if he had already...

"Damn it," he growled feeling the phone vibrate in his pocket again.

It was useless to resist. He had been warned. How could he resist? He was like an addict, a junky waiting for the next hit. The next high that would rush straight through his body like the finest ecstasy, the perfect adrenaline, the choicest taste of paradise. He knew what he was supposed to do, but damned if he would be made to jump through hoops.

He walked over to his desk, sat, reclining back in the black leather chair and even that as too much to tolerate. He tried to clear his mind, look out of the large smoked window onto the city. Cars, glass, people walking. Anything to take his mind off...

The phone vibrating in his hand.

It was the last time. He knew it would stop now. All he had to do was to let this last vibration end and his sanity could return. His life would go back to normal. It would all end and he would be free.

Miserable.

"Hello."

"Hello."

"I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"Are you coming?"

"Yes."

He was weak. Pathetic. But damned if he could resist.

He didn't bother to ring the doorbell, just opened the mailbox and slipped out the white envelope, found the key that he knew would be waiting for him and stepped inside. Found the clothes trailing up the stairs.

One black stiletto.

Another.

A pair of grey pinstriped pants.

A pink silk tank.

A grey matching jacket.

A pair of black lacy boy shorts.

A black matching demi-bra.

His mouth went dry.

Determined footsteps took him down the short corridor. Opened the door that led to that perfect orchid scent. Felt his dick get harder, if that was humanly possible.

He had been quivering like a stallion in heat from the first.

He kicked off his shoes, yanked off his suit jacket. Ripped the white shirt and tie off and tossed it aside. The pants and boxer shorts were gone by the time he made it to the bed, climbed on top and yanked her into his arms.

Her mouth, soft, perfect, his angel.

Twists, moans, her taste it filled him, completed him. It was everything. All.

The welcoming heat, wet, slick, always just for him. Always.

How could he have thought to resist? He thrust in her, deeper, feeling her arch to meet his strokes. Lightly muscled legs closed tighter around his waist, her nails bit into his back urging him on. Their bodies damp with sweat, hunger and need. And all he wanted was more. More.

As always, he knew it couldn't last, no matter how much he would have liked. A man could only fly in the heavens so long before he was forced to burn. Burn within his own passion, his love. Burn like the brightest star, flame like the sun. He felt her explode first. Her broken moan of pleasure igniting his own release. Her milking pulses urging his orgasm. Gripped her hips, as he thrust one last time and shattered calling her name.

"Elizabeth."

"We'll try six next time."

Jason kissed her mouth, that lush curve that tease him mercilessly. Gathered her close so that he could inhale that wonderful fragrance of orchid and woman that blended to give him the woman of his every desire. She knew he was hers and always would be. All she had to do was call and he would come. Whenever. Whatever. Wherever.

"It's a good thing I own the company. Don't you have patients to see today Dr. Morgan."

"I left right before my ten-thirty. You put that flower in my briefcase this morning practically daring me, Mr. Morgan."

"Love you wife."

"Love you husband."


End file.
